


love songs for rational people

by cirrus (themorninglark)



Series: SASO 2017 [40]
Category: Haikyuu!!, Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2017, Crossover, Gen, M/M, team tiny captains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 19:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11721111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/pseuds/cirrus
Summary: In person, Kita Shinsuke is younger than the camera makes him out to be. He could be Akashi’s age. They are not so far apart, after all. He is real enough to reach out and touch.“I heard they offered you captaincy. A first year,” says Kita, smiling.Akashi under the bus shelter with the drenched sports bag.





	love songs for rational people

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SASO 2017 Bonus Round 5: Clue | [originally posted here](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/24808.html?thread=15548136#cmt15548136)

“Pardon my intrusion.”

Akashi looks up. It’s a voice he could swear he’s never heard before, and yet, one that rings certain and specific bells. When he meets that polite, direct gaze, takes in a faint smile and jacket draped round slight shoulders, it clicks right away: He’s heard this voice on TV, of course.

“You look like you could use some help drying that off,” says Kita Shinsuke, third-year captain of the volleyball team. “And I have a spare towel.”

Akashi takes it. “Thank you.”

Kita nods. He eyes Akashi’s drenched bag, distant curiosity flickering in his eyes, but refrains from awkward questions. Akashi appreciates that much. Or, maybe, Kita already knows the answers.

“You run into all sorts of people at college,” Akashi remarks.

“Yes,” says Kita, and pauses there. His gaze remains on Akashi for a disarming moment, before he turns to face the road. The traffic is light today.

“Sometimes,” Akashi continues, “your new teammate is someone you defeated back in high school, and you discover they’re still holding a grudge, and that the pond in the courtyard is only ankle-deep. Have you ever encountered something like that, _senpai_?”

“Ah. Not personally. I’m sorry to hear that happened.”

Akashi shrugs and pulls his own jacket close. “It’s no big deal.”

He stops short of saying _I was an asshole in high school_ , sits down, leans back against the scratched-up plexiglass and crosses his ankles. His damp bag’s lying next to him on the bench, a constant reminder. He’d meant what he said. It’s no big deal. Still—

When Kita reaches into his pocket for a handful of loose change, picks up and shoulders Akashi’s bag and waves off his protestations with an elegant gesture, Akashi cannot say he is not a little grateful for it.

“Let me buy you a drink, Akashi-kun,” Kita offers.

Akashi feels his eyebrows shooting up before he’s aware of it.

“So. You follow basketball too, Kita-senpai?”

Kita shakes his head. He deliberates before hitting the black coffee button, collects his drink and steps back from the vending machine for Akashi to make his choice. 

Akashi follows suit.

“I don’t. But I’ve heard of you, of course.”

The coffee is refreshingly cool in Akashi’s hand. He watches Kita take a sip from his own can, and thinks about that old, tired truth: that the TV amplifies all your flaws. He remembers a voice that seemed out of season, an autumn voice, crisp and sunset-warm, and the barest of dark circles under eyes.

In person, Kita Shinsuke is younger than the camera makes him out to be. He could be Akashi’s age. They are not so far apart, after all. He is real enough to reach out and touch.

“I heard they offered you captaincy. A first year,” says Kita, smiling.

Akashi tilts his head upwards and looks at the clear sky.

“I captained a team, once. Twice. It didn’t turn out well, both times.”

It is no small thing, to hear the admission in his mouth. It is no small thing to look back at the shadows at his heels, the scorched earth he left behind, an unstable sun tearing up the pavement. Spring is something of a balm, but so is time. It has not faded, not much, but he can face it now.

“Not many people get one chance to right their wrongs,” Kita murmurs. “Let alone two.”

Akashi casts a sidelong glance at him. “And what about you?”

“Me? I’m not as special as you. I said I’d take it on because no one else wanted it.”

Somehow, Akashi doesn’t believe that’s the whole of it. He does not press it, not today; he thinks, this will not be their last conversation, and as the bus comes and goes, they remain where they are. It is the hour just before dusk, when the road is a pale, gritty sort of pink and every passing motorcycle sounds like a roar, and Akashi finds that when Kita’s next to him, his own thoughts are not so loud after all.


End file.
